


Unnecessary Practice

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [22]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Costumes, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 22. Kurt/Puck<br/>Prompt: A domestic future fic. Someone dressing up as Father Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unnecessary Practice

Kurt laughed heartily when he entered the living room of his two story house late at night on the twenty-second. He would have expected the same sight had it just been two days later, but as it was it was merely hilarious.

Standing before the twinkling and sparkling Christmas tree was a big, voluptuous _blob_ of red, doing something that seemed like yoga with the way it kept bending over.

“You do know Christmas isn't until the twenty-fifth, right?” Kurt asked his husband as he sat himself down on the armrest of the couch, eyes filled with mirth not leaving the Santa-clad man once. “If Micheal and Audrey comes down and finds you they'll know something's up. They are quite clever for their age.”

“I'm practicing,” Noah answered, bending down once again with his arm outstretched, as if he was placing something under the tree, and _oh_.

Kurt snorted when he realized just _what_ his husband of seven years now was doing. “Why are you placing imaginary gifts under the tree? And why are you wearing that costume? Surely you don't need it to 'practice',” Kurt wondered, using exaggerated air quotes as the corners of his lips tugged up into yet another smile. At least he wore the cotton one, Kurt figured, he would have loathed it if his gorgeous husband had dressed himself in the cheap, polyester one that Kurt detested and would have burnt given the chance. It had been Noah's fathers though, once upon a time, and Kurt couldn't bring himself to get rid of one of the few belongings his love still was in possession of that had once belonged to that man.

“I told you, I'm _practicing_. It's the twins first Christmas since they begun to get involved with the holiday – they even did their own wish lists and everything – and I just want things to be perfect.” Puck sighed, stretching his back, even going as far as to place his palms on his sides and press himself into it. “And yeah, that involves testing this silly costume and putting fake boxes under the tree.”

“Oh honey,” Kurt giggled, standing up and embracing the thoughtful man. “That's so sweet. And idiotic.” Making Noah turn around Kurt held onto his shoulders and looked into his golden brown eyes with a smile. “They're not even three, they think getting fruit loops instead of sandwiches for breakfast is perfect and magical. Somehow I doubt you going down here two nights in advance in a ridiculous outfit will make much of a difference to them come Christmas morning.”

“But...”

“No. Uh-huh. Things will be perfect I tell you,” Kurt told the slumping man, hitching the fake beard down so he could place a chaste kiss on the pouting lips beneath. “Don't you worry No-No,” he murmured against his husbands lips, “absolutely perfect.”

*

It had taken Noah a long time to believe him and calm down though.

After many reassuring kisses and soothing words Kurt had pushed the fretting man down into the couch, soon climbing up on his lap and cuddling him as close as the pillows hidden beneath the costume would allow. There he had repeated everything he'd already told his husband several times, providing sweet kisses and strong, long hugs whenever Noah needed them.

“I never celebrated Christmas, babe,” Noah had told him at one point, eyebrows furrowed, “but you did, and you have all these amazing stories from your childhood about it. I don't have any memories about my first Hanukkah's, or of my general childhood really. I want the twins to have these memories forever.”

“You know most of my memories from my childhood aren't about these perfect things in life, right?” Kurt had told him back. “I always tell you about baking cookies with my mom, or about building a snowman with my dad. I can't remember saying any of those things went perfectly; mom and I usually burnt those cookies or started throwing flower at each other, and my dad and I made the most horrible snowmen ever to grace this earth. But we were _together_ , had fun _together_ , that's what made it so special and memorable. Not the times things actually went off without a hitch, not what lay waiting beneath the tree – though I do remember something vaguely about sparkly shoes when I was three or four and that I absolutely loved until they broke minutes later. None of those mundane things stuck with me, just the unforgettable 'mistakes' we did.”

Noah had smiled weakly at that, but had soon lapsed back into his previous tirade about how it still needed to be special, to which Kurt had sighed exasperatedly in response before grasping his husbands chin and pushing a furious kiss against his moving lips. Unrelenting when Noah moves to break away Kurt holds his cheek and jaw, tilting both of their faces so he can smash their lips closer, molding their lips together until his husband relents and responds.

God, does he knows his husband or what?

Raking his fingers up the taller man's cotton-clad arm, shoulder and neck, Kurt curls his fingers there and holds on for life as they continue to kiss passionately, only parting away for air once the urge to breathe becomes too great. And soon he realizes that the only thing lacking at the moment is feeling Noah as close as he wants to; those infernal, lumpy pillows hiding between them obscuring him from his husband.

Within seconds of his revelation Kurt has pressed his tongue past those red-bitten lips and climbed out of Noah's lap, briefly, just to get those infernal pillows out of his way so he could press himself closer, never once breaking their lips as he moves. The two pieces of bedding had landed somewhere on the floor behind him, but he was far too entranced by the sparks flying between himself and the gorgeous man beneath him to care. The quick glance he had gotten of the now curve-less body before climbing back onto his sexy husband certainly wasn't helping him calm down.

Even after knowing each other for over a decade Kurt continued to be surprised by his own desire for this man.

“You know,” he murmured seductively against the taller man's swollen lips, his fingers searching beneath the red Santa hat and finding soft curls of black hair, “you do look kinda sexy in this thing. When you skip the pillows. And the beard, definitely without the beard.”

“Hmm, I do?” Noah smiled, nuzzling his nose against Kurt's. “I thought you didn't have a roleplay kink. We did experiment with that cop thing once...”

“That was a mistake,” Kurt agreed hotly. Then he shrugged, dragging his fingers over the red fabric. “But I don't know, you in this? Definitely a turn on. So what do you say – me... Santa... maybe a nice bed...”

He didn't get any further before there were hands groping all over his ass and he was lifted up into the air, Noah marching hastily through the house in his search for their room. From previous experiences Kurt knew he was in for a hell of a ride, and only slung his arms and legs around the other man, holding on for dear life as he was being carried through the numerous rooms.

*

Soon his back is being pushed against their bedroom door, Noah pressing himself so close it momentarily takes Kurt's breath away. His heart is hammering wildly in his chest when the tanned man leans back, Kurt's eyes hazy with lust as he stares into the equally blackened irises looking back on him.

Knowing that Noah is otherwise occupied by simply holding him up Kurt brings one hand down, searching hurriedly behind himself for the doorknob as Noah pulls him in for another searing kiss, licking into his mouth and making him shiver. His dense fingers scrambles over the wood, eager to just get inside the room already, and he cheers mutely when he finds the brass handle, twisting the door open clumsily.

“You've been a naughty boy this year, haven't you?” Noah whispers sultrily into his ear as he carries Kurt to their bed, yet all Kurt wants to do is laugh because of it. That was just so cheesy. He doesn't though, too occupied with the sensations crashing over him.

What he does do however is buck his hips forward, eyes dropping shut and moaning lowly when he drags their hard lengths together. Cheesy talk or not, his husband is hot and Kurt is aching for whatever Noah will give him.

“Definitely on the naughty list then,” Noah grins, palms squeezing his ass roughly and dragging yet another moan out of him. Then Kurt can feel himself being discarded onto the bed, his chest heaving as he gazes up at the smirking man. “You should strip,” the Santa-clad man suggests, placing one knee on the edge of the mattress, his eyes roving over Kurt's rumpled form. “'M gonna have fun with you.”

The possibilities of _that_ promise is enough to have Kurt up and shedding his shirt with frantic fingers, teeth biting down on his lips to keep from whining when he just _couldn't_ get _that_ particular button open. Sighing happily once he did manage it Kurt got to work on his pants, dragging them down his long, pale legs as the shirt hung from his shoulders. Flicking both garments off the side of the bed Kurt lay back on the bed, only a thin, flimsy pair of briefs covering his straining erection.

“'Mm, look at you,” Noah praises, crawling over and sitting down between his spread feet, hands stroking his calves reverently. “So beautiful after all of these years, so fucking pretty...”

Kurt looked on with lustful, glistening eyes as his husband, his lover, stroked his way up to Kurt's knees before retreating back and placing those calloused hands back on his own lap.

“Turn over,” Noah demanded huskily, and Kurt could see him swallow harshly as he stared at his pelvis with hungry eyes.

Lips tugging into a small smile Kurt does as asked, flipping himself onto his stomach and relaxing into the mattress. Noah will take care of him. He always does so splendidly.

He can feel those same hands begin to trail over the arch of his feet, fingers tickling him as they travel upwards slowly, slowly. He squirms when they tickle the inside of his knees, and sighs breathily when they paint patterns to the inside of his trembling thighs.

Kurt remembers once telling his husband – then boyfriend – that he thought the touch of a fingertip was the sexiest thing he could imagine. Geez had he regretted that sentiment many times in the years fallowing that. His Noah had a weird fetish for making him lie there tormented for hours with just those fingertips touching him – he certainly hoped this wasn't one of those times.

He begins to wonder – or fear, really – that it was indeed one of those days when Noah lets his fingers stray even higher, swirling shapes all over his back and arms, but he sighs relieved when the stronger man grips his wrist and pushes them over his head against the headboard. Kurt can feel the bed dip on either side of his hips, and he shivers when there's cotton dragging lightly over his sensitive back.

“You look so gorgeous like this, you know?” Noah comments against his neck, his warm breath hitting Kurt's skin and making him tremble. “All spread out for me, willing to let me take whatever I want.” Kurt gasps when there's teeth biting gently into his shoulder, nipping his skin carefully before licking over the faint marks soothingly. “You know what I want though?” Noah questions him, lips straying unhurriedly down his spine in the seconds fallowing. 

The hands holding on to Kurt's soon fallow the same path; drawing identical heated lines down his arms and shoulders, before stroking down his sides and eventually landing on his hips, thumbs digging into the globes of his ass. Noah is still kissing over his spine, mouthing the spot where Kurt knows he has a couple of freckles littering his otherwise perfect marble skin.

“I- I don't know,” Kurt grumbles out distractedly, knowing his husband won't continue unless he answers the question. “Wh-what do you want? I'd give you everything.”

He can feel Noah smirk against his skin, the tug of those lips so clear against his hypersensitive skin. Suddenly there's hard pressure against his ass – fingers digging into his flesh as Noah rises himself back up to Kurt's face. “This ass,” he tells Kurt, massaging the cheeks in emphasis. “I wanna taste it. Will you let me?”

Kurt nods hurriedly, twisting his face and arches his neck to place fervent, messy kisses against the parts of the taller man that he can reach, whining brokenly when Noah draws back from his reach.

His husband is far too good at breaking him into this needy little mess of want. Just a few carefully though-out words and a handful of touches and Kurt is gone, like always.

He will get back though. Soon.

Now he just enjoys himself, tilting his ass up higher when Noah squeezes his cheeks again, moaning when he feels fingers curl under the waistband of his briefs. Hands digging into the pillows beside him Kurt clenches his teeth together when an unsuspected bite to the dip of his spine comes, the sparks making him miss how his underwear are being pushed just below his cheeks, exposing him to his eager lover.

What fallows however is as clear as glass in his mind however; every little lick and nip to his cheeks registering in his brain, every little squeeze and exploring pinch making him buck back into the touch. There's teeth dragging over his skin, and there's nails raking red, somewhat painful marks onto his hips, both things he take notice of, but it's the nose nudging against his cleft that takes his breath away – especially so when it's fallowed by a wet tongue lapping over the same course. The warm breath falling on his crack unbearably hot and shooting sparks up his spine, much like the nails digging into his cheeks.

Feeling himself being spread apart by rough hands Kurt keens, tipping his hips back and up in offering. And he can tell it's much appreciated, the tongue instantly tracing his rim speaks volumes, even if it's owner is as silent as ever.

Kurt is not silent, not by a long shot. He loves, loves, loves being rimmed, and mind already lost in pleasure just from the foreplay means he doesn't even try to keep his noises in. There's no need to – he and Noah had this room soundproofed when the twins got old enough to sleep through an entire night. There's no reason for him to muffle his reactions, not when Noah loves him loud and eager.

Which is a good thing, because he's always been somewhat of a screamer. Tonight is no different; unabashed moans, keens, cries, wails and throaty groans are released with every little kitten-lick against his entrance, whines and whimpers falling from his lips whenever Noah breaks away for a single moment.

He knows, he _knows_ that the slurping sounds Noah is producing as he's messily worshiping his hole are unbearably hot and sexy to listen to, but he can't hear a single thing over the noise he's producing himself. Which is horrible, because he _adores_ those lascivious and lewd slurps, they always serve to make him positively crazy with lust – not that it's a problem at the moment, he's already been on that edge for what seems like decades.

Kurt can feel how he keeps opening up and contracting under Noah's attention, can feel how he's winking continuously as Noah laps over him. Saliva is pooling all over; he can feel it dribbling over his sac, can feel it squelching everywhere Noah is pressing against him – he can even feel a few droplets of it on his lower back, however it got there.

Torn between driving his leaking cock into the bedding beneath him or kneeling up to back himself onto that tongue that's _just teasing him_ , Kurt is left in a sort of limbo, his hips merely stuttering in place until Noah takes a firm hold and decides for him – by pushing him down against the bed and keeping him there.

At least it meant he wouldn't have to decide between two impossible choices.

“Please, No-No, please!” he keens instead, knuckles whitening with how hard he's grasping the pillows beside him. “Fuck! Just- please, just fuck me with it! Fuck me with that gorgeous tongue! Take me- yes! Fuck, so good! C'mon, fuck me, please!” Kurt begs, wailing out his torment when Noah only laps down his crack and mouths his balls instead.

His husband is suck an ass sometimes.

“Don't be a fucking tease!” he admonishes with a grumbled 'fuck' when Noah won't listen to him. “Don't you wanna make me scream? Make me howl out from how good you're fucking me with that talented tongue? Just please Noah, come on, fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck- ah!” The tongue is piercing in deep; curling inside him and wringing all imaginable kinds of cries and noises out of him. 

God, does he loves Noah's tongue!

“Yes! Fuck, right there! Fuck me just like that, No-No! Argh, so good,” Kurt praised, thrashing wildly as Noah stabbed him time and again with that long tongue. Suddenly breathless, with arousal straining over every inch of his body Kurt feels himself being stretched open around that thick appendage; his muscles fluttering weakly around it and trying, trying, trying to squeeze and keep it in. But it's no use, he's too weak, and relents to being speared as Noah sees fit.

The first spark from having his prostate hit is enough to make Kurt come, a sudden wave of explosions firing through his body as he spurts load after load onto the bedding, voice screaming as he dazes out from the pleasure.

He comes to not a minute later, immediately turning over on his back and lifting his tired neck to watch his husband. Noah's absolutely soaked; face glistening with saliva and sweat and God knows what, eyes frantic and dark as he's rocking against his own palm quickly.

“Get over here,” he rasps, already sore from the constant moaning he's done, knowing it will only get worse before this is over. “Wanna blow you,” he tells his amazing husband, making grabby hands in the air for him.

Noah is quick to lean down for a kiss, their tongues tangling together for many long seconds as they share their noises of appreciation into the other's mouth. Kurt is latching his hands on to the taller man's pants, yanking them down to the middle of his husband's thighs, quick to find the pulsing length and taking it in his hand. He doesn't get more than a few strokes in however before Noah's breaking away, batting his hand away and crawling forward up the bed.

Soon Kurt finds himself inches away from a thick, purplish cock; his mouth watering obscenely just watching the length bobbing against that red cotton covering his lover's stomach. Entranced Kurt watches Noah as he curls his fingers around his own length, stroking it once, twice, before offering it to Kurt, tracing the head over Kurt's swollen lips. Kurt sticks his tongue out, tasting the beads of liquids falling from the tip, groaning from the familiar taste. 

Opening his mouth Kurt is fed the thick girth inch by inch, his own hands pressing flat against Noah's ass and edging him even further once he stops and moves to pull back out. Kurt – in no way – want that length to disappear from his mouth; he's far too hungry for it, aching for it too much. He would grow hard again just from the taste if he was younger and hadn't come not even five minutes prior.

One hand straying downwards Kurt begins to knead the hanging balls he encounters, playing gently with them as Noah slowly starts to fuck his mouth. He knows this won't take long, not with how long the other man has already waited, but he is resolute to make the most of the time it does takes. 

So, with the thumb and long-finger of his free hand Kurt spreads his husbands cheeks apart, point-finger finding and tracing the wrinkled, little rim hiding between them. It's dry and rough, but it does drive the point home, because not even ten seconds pass before Kurt can hear Noah begin to curse and warn him that he's coming – something Kurt already gathered from the sticky cum falling on his tongue.

Swallowing the load in his mouth, his tongue gently lapping the head still in his mouth, cleaning it before letting his softening husband pull out. Opening his eyes Kurt can see Noah watching him reverently. He only smiles in response, dragging the man down and kissing him, Noah shuddering from tasting himself on Kurt's tongue.

It's been a while since they've had sex quite this... rigorous, and raunchy, but all the better. It makes it more special.

“Santa costumes get you hot, huh?” Noah teases in between kisses, lips pulled into a huge grin. “Who would've thought?”

Rolling his eyes Kurt slaps his shoulder. “See if I will ever calm you down again,” he grumbles, burrowing himself down against his husbands warm neck, the red cloth resting under his palm a constant mockery. “Oh, shut up,” he mutters when he can feel Noah's grin split even wider.

“It's okay,” Noah smiles, pulling him up and kissing him sweetly. “It's kinda cute, actually. Just as long as you won't run off with some Santa from the mall...” That earns the teasing man another slap, harsher this time. “Kidding, kidding...”

“Hmpf,” Kurt huffs, nosing against Noah's cheek. “At least _I_ don't have a thing for Disney characters.”

“Hey, Jasmine's hot!” Noah defends.

“I was actually talking about your crush on Aladdin, but fine.”


End file.
